


An Easy Fit

by StarshipDancer



Series: Reddie Fics [8]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Eddie's in love with Richie but Richie's dating Stan and Eddie's in love with Stan too, Everybody else is kinda backgound but they are there, M/M, No Pennywise AU, Pining, References to the Novel, So Eddie's just a mess, Streddie, They're like 17-18, just boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-13 19:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13577745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarshipDancer/pseuds/StarshipDancer
Summary: "Eddie Kaspbrak was a little bit in love with Richie Tozier, and, he realized belatedly, he was a little bit in love with Stanley Uris, too.Maybe that was why when he saw them together, holding hands or kissing discretely, Eddie felt like his lungs might never work again. That his inhaler would finally fail him, and he’d die, gasping for something he could never have."





	An Easy Fit

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been sitting on this idea for a few months now because there just aren't enough Streddie fics, and I'm a sucker for this OT3. I've also made quite a few references to the novel, but nothing important that you'd have to know. 
> 
> I added this to my Reddie fic collection mostly just to keep my IT fics together. Hope you enjoy!

Everything is wrong, Eddie thinks, and he can’t do anything to fix it.

Eddie can’t fix the way Richie’s hand fits into Stanley’s, their equally long fingers slotting together perfectly. Eddie’s hand would have been dwarfed in Richie’s, but it would’ve been warm, would’ve been welcome. Would’ve been nice.

Eddie can’t fix the way Stanley tucks into Richie’s side, Richie’s arm dangling over his shoulder as if it had always been there, always belonged there. Eddie would have disappeared next to Richie’s too tall, too gangly form, and he wouldn’t have enjoyed the way Richie’s sharp angles bore into him. He would’ve endured it, though, and he would’ve complained when the movie ended. Stan reached up to take Richie’s hand, and then Eddie looked away.

Eddie can’t fix the way the world just doesn’t make any _sense_ anymore. Before, he knew what to expect. He knew that Richie would annoy him with endless nicknames and meaningless flirting, and Eddie would pretend he hated it. Richie would touch him, and Eddie would push him away. It was a dance between the two of them, one where Eddie knew all the steps, but he didn’t know what to do when _Stan_ cut in and stole his dancing partner.

And it wasn’t fair, Eddie thought, his hand in his pocket and closed tight around his aspirator. It wasn’t fair to Stan to think that he’d _stolen_ Richie. Richie wasn’t Eddie’s to steal.

Richie had kissed Stanley first. Eddie knew because Richie liked to tell the story to the Losers, even though they’d all heard it a million times. Ben would still listen with rapt attention, ever the romantic, with a dreamy smile on his face while he held Bev’s hand. Beverly was a little less patient, but a glance at Ben’s heart eyes always kept her lips shut with a doting smile. Bill and Mike would listen absently, casting each other glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

And Eddie? Eddie would watch all of them, all of their quiet reactions, and wish he couldn’t hear. Wish he could just gouge out his fucking ears so he didn’t have to hear about Richie and Stanley, but he knew the story by heart.

He knew it by heart.

A cardinal had been sighted by a man in Stan’s bird-watching club, and Stan was desperate to collect it. Cardinals in Derry, Maine were rare, a once-in-a-lifetime kind of deal. Richie’s had the misfortune-- _misfortune_ , he called it--of being there when Stan got the call.

_Of course_  Stan had dragged him along. _Of course_ Richie had complained the whole time.

_Of course_ , when Stanley finally saw that cardinal and had turned to Richie with beautiful excitement, _of course_ Richie had kissed him. _Of fucking course_.

Eddie knew the story. He’d heard it a million times. And no matter how many times he repeated it to himself, it just didn’t make any _sense_. It didn’t make sense, not with the way Richie always hugged him and flirted with him and pinched his cheeks and called him cute. Eddie had always just… assumed that it would be the two of them. Maybe not today or tomorrow, he would always tell himself, but _someday_.

Eddie had never even considered the possibility that all of Richie’s meaningless flirting had been that. _Meaningless_. Richie flirted with everyone, but he always seemed to take a special interest in Eddie. If he’d been paying attention, Eddie would have noticed that Richie always took a special interest in _Stanley_ , too.

And why wouldn’t he? Stanley Uris was… was amazing. He was soft in a way that could never be weak, and quiet until the Losers needed his wisdom. He liked to watch his birds and, Eddie realized afterward, he liked to watch Richie. Sometimes his jokes didn’t make sense, but Richie always howled with laughter nonetheless. Stanley was clean and even and perfect in all the ways Richie was not, and they went together _so well_. So well that Eddie didn’t have it in him to be mad about it.

He wasn’t mad, Eddie kept telling himself. He wasn’t mad. He was… he was _confused_.

Eddie hadn’t realized he’d stopped walking until he looked up and saw the Losers ahead of him, choruses of _beep beep, Richie_  drifting back to his ears. Ben had an arm around Beverly’s shoulders, keeping her upright as she bent over with laughter at some weird impression Richie was doing. Mike and Bill were holding hands, still basking in the glow of a new and wonderful relationship. Richie was… well, Eddie wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but it involved his hands and some awkward dance. Everybody was laughing.

Eddie wasn’t laughing. He’d never felt such a… such a disconnect before. Not even when Henry Bowers had broken his arm, and his mom made all his friends think he didn’t want to see them. They’d still come, Bill sneaking in first to see if Mrs. Kaspbrak was still there, and then the others coming in after him. They’d all signed his cast, Richie with a dramatic flourish and stupid Voice.

He’d still been in love with Bill back then. Hell, they’d all been in love with Bill back then. All of them except maybe Ben, who’d looked at Beverly like she’d hung the stars even then. That had been one of the first times Eddie could remember his focus shifting from Bill to Richie, and it had all been downhill from there.

Now, Eddie felt like he was drifting away from them. There they all were, each of them finding their place. Ben’s place was with Beverly. Bill’s place was with Mike. And Richie’s place…. Richie’s place was with Stan. Eddie didn’t fit there. There was only room for two. Eddie didn’t have a place.

He just didn’t have place, and he was confused, so confused! Nothing made sense! How could everything go from making sense to not making any sense at all so quickly? So cruelly?

Eddie hadn’t realized that somebody was watching him, eyes that were warm and brown and knowing, so knowing. “No, go ahead, we’ll meet you there.”

Eddie looked up at the sound of the voice, blinking incoherently at the sight of Stan coming back to him. Stan was, by no means, intimidating, but Eddie found he couldn’t keep eye contact for long. He had to look down.

Stan smiled briefly before he pulled Eddie over to a nearby bench. Eddie looked around, just now noticing they were right in the middle of Derry. Eddie had been following the Losers in their long-way route out of the Barrens and hadn’t even been paying attention to where they were taking him.

The giant Paul Bunyan statue looked ominous in the night, dark angles sparsely lit by street lamps. Eddie shivered and looked down at his lap, remembering the time Richie had told him about the nightmare he’d had about that statue. Thinking of Richie only made him shiver again and wrap his arms around his midsection.

“Are you cold?”

Eddie shook his head. He could barely hear the voices of the other Losers anymore, though Richie’s carried the loudest in the quiet park. He was aware that he was shaking still, small shakes in succession, and didn’t know how he could stop it. Maybe he’d get sick. Pneumonia, from the cold, except it wasn’t really cold enough for that. Eddie’s mom would try to say that he _could still get cold, should have taken a coat, those horrid friends of his would get him sick yet!_  

But Eddie was old enough now to know better. He _did_  know better. That didn’t stop the usual clamp of fear around his lungs. He gripped his aspirator tighter. He didn’t need it! He _didn’t_!

But Eddie couldn’t hear Richie’s voice anymore. He couldn’t hear any of the Losers by now, but he couldn’t hear _Richie’s_  voice anymore because he’d gone on without him. Because Eddie didn’t have a place with him, because Eddie never did. Stan belonged, but Stan was here with Eddie, and it just didn’t make any _sense_!

Then Stan’s hand appeared on his back, firm and supportive, and his other hand wrestled Edd’s aspirator out of his pocket. He felt the mouthpiece against his lips, and he opened up for Stan to trigger the medicine into his mouth. Eddie took a deep, gasping breath, and then his whole body sagged with relief. Without meaning to, he sagged against Stan and decided he liked how he felt there. He liked the way Stan’s arm felt around his shoulders, liked how Stan smelled so clean and fresh and nothing like Richie, who always reeked of cigarette smoke no matter how many times he washed his clothes.

Stan rubbed his back until Eddie was breathing quietly again. “Better?”

Eddie nodded. He knew he should move now. To slide out of Stan’s personal space and back into his own. But Stan was warm and comforting, and Eddie felt fresh tears prickling his eyes because he _understood_. Dammit, he could see why Richie picked Stan over him because Stan was perfect. Stan was calm, collected, comforting, and Eddie wondered if Stan even realized it about himself.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Eddie said, his voice wet and trembling. “I would’ve caught up.”

“I don’t know that you would have.” Stan hadn’t moved his arm yet. Didn’t show any sign of planning to. “You looked lost, Eddie. Where were you?”

Eddie didn’t know how to answer, so he didn’t. Instead, he said, "Richie will be looking for you.” His tone was bitter, and he wanted to kick himself for being so fucking pathetic. Stan was going to know. Stan was going to know, and then he was going to tell Richie, and then _Richie_  was going to laugh at Eddie because _come on, Eds, didn’t you realize that I wasn’t serious? Why’d you go falling in love with me, Eds?_

Stan did know, and Stan wasn’t going to let any of those things happen. He pressed the mouth of the aspirator to Eddie’s lips again and released another breath into Eddie’s lungs. “He’ll be looking for you, too.”

Eddie swallowed the emotion choking him and shook his head, numb. Stan was wrong, and Eddie didn’t know how to tell him that. So he turned into Stan’s chest, his face finding the perfect spot against his shoulder, and shivered there. He wasn’t aware that he’d dozed until another voice startled him. Stan’s arm tightened around him protectively, and Eddie relaxed again.

“Well isn’t this cute!”

“Beep beep, Trashmouth. Now’s not the time.” Eddie didn’t need to look to know the sharp expression on Stan’s face.

“God, I hate that fucking statue. Hey, is he all right?” Richie had lowered his voice some, and it sounded so warm and quiet in the cold night air. Eddie wanted to wrap himself in the blanket of that voice. Stan pressed closer to him.

“You need to talk to him,” Stan replied, strict, firm, irrevocable in his order. “Not tonight, but you need to clear things up with him.”

“ _Stan_.” Richie sounded devastated, and if Eddie had been looking, he would have seen Richie shaking his head rapidly.

“It’s not fair to any of us for things to continue as they have. I hope you realize that. He’s _hurting_ , Rich.”

“I know. Fuck! I _know_.” Eddie felt a hand in his hair and knew it was Richie’s. He hummed, whining a little, when the hand pulled away. Stan rubbed his back, and Eddie sighed, content.

“You have to talk to me, too,” Stan added calmly, ever the voice of reason. Eddie liked that about him. “Though, I think I’ll be doing the most of the talking for once.”

“Stanley,” Richie choked, upset, but Stan was speaking again before he could carry on.

“It’s not as bad as you’re thinking. Don’t worry about it now. We should get Eddie home. He’s cold.”

Richie didn’t say anything for a moment. “All right. Up you go, Spaghetti Man.”

Next thing Eddie knew, he was being moved, lifted, and then his arms were around somebody’s neck. He buried his face naturally in the shaggy mop of dark hair and sighed. He’d _missed_ this, missed contact with Richie, and thought he mumbled as much.

“Missed you too, Eds,” Richie murmured, holding Eddie’s legs up around his waist.

Eddie scrunched up his face and hummed. “Stan still here?”

Stan's surprised voice answered, “I haven’t gone anywhere, Eddie.” That was good, Eddie thought. Because Stan was Richie’s and Richie was Stan’s, and Eddie already didn’t belong. He couldn’t keep Richie all to himself because he didn’t _belong_.

He didn’t belong with Richie. He didn’t belong with Stan. There wasn’t room for him. Eddie started shaking again, trying not to cry, and that was when he felt a hand in his. It couldn’t have been Richie’s because Richie was still holding his legs. Eddie turned his head and blinked his eyes open to see Stan watching him. Warm, soft, inviting… understanding.

Stan understood. Eddie squeezed his hand.

“Go ahead and sleep, Eds. We’ll take good care of you,” Richie promised, and Stan reinforced with nod. Eddie shut his eyes again, holding onto Richie’s neck with one hand and holding onto Stan with the other.

He didn’t belong, but _God_ , he wanted to.

 

* * *

 

 

Small things changed at first, and Eddie barely noticed.

Bill and Mike had started inviting him to hang out more often, usually to watch movies in Bill’s basement or visit the animals at Mike’s farm. Ben asked him to help him study at the library most days after school, the weight of senior year getting to Ben the most, and when Beverly arrived to drag her boyfriend away from the stacks of books, the three of them would go out for milkshakes.

And when the Losers all got together to go to the Aladdin, Eddie always found himself sat snug between Richie and Stan. Richie would whisper jokes at Eddie, and Stan would grumble at Richie to shut up, and Eddie thought it felt nice, sitting in between them like that. He still didn’t belong, but he could pretend, right?

Eddie could pretend that when Richie dragged him to the arcade, it meant something. That all of his showing off and claims that he liked losing in front of Eddie the most meant something. That the cheek-pinching and the flirting and the nicknames meant _something_.

Eddie could pretend when Stan talked him into bird-watching at Memorial Park, it meant something. That though Stan was quiet, the way he never made Eddie feel unwelcome meant something. That when Stan reached over for his hand and held it the rest of the day, it meant _something_.

Eddie could pretend all those things, and then he could breathe again. Then he could believe that maybe he did belong. Because Eddie Kaspbrak was a little bit in love with Richie Tozier, and, he realized belatedly, he was a little bit in love with Stanley Uris, too.

Maybe that was why when he saw them together, holding hands or kissing discretely, Eddie felt like his lungs might never work again. That his inhaler would finally fail him, and he’d die, gasping for something he could never have.

 

* * *

 

 

It was ten at night when Richie knocked on his window. Eddie frowned at his grinning face and hesitated before opening the window. “Do you even own a watch? If my mother hears you--”

“Get dressed, Eds! We’re going for a drive, and you’ve been cordially invited,” Richie proclaimed in his version of a whisper, which was really just a slightly quieter version of his regular voice.

“We…?” Eddie glanced around Richie’s head saw Stan waiting just under Eddie’s window. Immediately Eddie backpedaled, shaking his head, stumbling through an excuse to stay home because this just _wasn’t fair_. Why did they want to keep doing this to him?

Richie grabbed his wrist, and the touch shocked him into silence. “Dress warm, okay? Then meet us by the window. We’ll catch you. You trust us, right?”

Eddie sniffled. Nodded. Richie let go and vanished, probably back on the ground with his boyfriend. Eddie took a puff from his inhaler before he began to dress mechanically. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to go because he _wanted_ to go, and that hurt like the sharp pain in his chest when an asthma attack came on strong.

He didn’t want to go, but he did anyways because they asked him to. And when Eddie slid out of his window and onto the edge of the roof, he trusted them to catch him.

They did, Stan on one side and Richie on the other, with their hands on his legs and then his waist and chest until his feet hit the ground. He glanced at each of them, wondering what was going to come next. He didn’t see a car, so Eddie wasn’t sure how they were going to go for a drive.

Richie looked excited and couldn’t seem to stand still. He kept bouncing from one foot to the other, and Eddie wondered if that was to keep warm.

Stan was a complete contrast, as usual. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his coat, and he looked nervous. When Richie began to talk about where he’d parked his truck, Stan reached over and took Eddie’s hand. Eddie held on because that was all he could do, all he wanted to do. If it bothered Richie, he didn’t show it.

They walked two streets over, Richie still talking and Stan still holding Eddie’s hand. By the time they reached Richie’s truck, Richie had started to wonder which one of them was going to ride in the bed. Probably Eddie because Eddie didn’t belong, not really, no matter how much he’d like to pretend he did.

That wasn’t how things worked out, though. Richie sat in the driver’s seat, and Stan sat in the passenger seat but not before shoving Eddie into the small space between the two of them. Richie slung one arm around Eddie’s shoulders, able to reach far enough to slide his fingers into Stan’s curls. Stan smiled tightly, still worried about something, but Richie had turned on the radio before Eddie could think to ask.

“Where are we going?” Eddie tried to say over the music, but his voice was lost to the tune. He looked questioningly from Richie to Stan, but neither of them would offer up an explanation for dragging Eddie out of bed and into Richie’s truck.

It was Richie who finally answered him. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, Spaghetti Man!”

“Don’t call me that! What the fuck is going on?”

Richie didn’t answer.

Eddie huffed, more than a little fed up, and looked to Stan instead. Stan said nothing, just distractedly stared out the window, his mouth drawn into a thin line. Eddie opened his mouth to say something, and Richie turned the radio up even louder. With a roll of his eyes, Stan turned it back down.

“Hey, what gives?” Richie demanded, more than a little offended.

“I’d like to be able to still _hear_ by the end of tonight,” Stan replied. “I’m sure Eddie feels the same way.”

“Eds! Is this true?” Richie looked at Eddie hopefully.

Eddie shrugged. “You _did_  have it up a little loud.”

“A little? You don’t have to give him _that_ much credit,” said Stan, seeming to feel a little better. His grasp on Eddie’s hand loosened slightly, but he still hadn’t let go. Eddie didn’t really want him to.

“Okay, I see how it’s gonna go! I should make the both of you walk back to Derry!”

It was then that Eddie realized where they were. Past the city limits with nothing but road and fields and sky in every direction. He didn’t see any other cars on the road, just the three of them and Toto playing _Africa_ quietly on the radio. For a moment, Eddie forgot that he didn’t belong there, sandwiched between the two of them in Richie’s truck on some unknown expedition. It felt peaceful. It felt… right. Eddie never wanted the moment to end.

Not long after, Richie pulled over to the side of the road. “All right, bitches, better get out and start walking if you wanna see Derry by morning.”

Stan scoffed as he opened the door. “You get out too, asshole. Everything in the back?”

“Yeah, you two go choose a spot. I’ll grab the shit and meet you there.”

“What are we--”

“Come on, Eddie.” Stan tugged him out of the car, and Eddie stumbled along behind him. Stan turned on a flashlight and began to walk, and all Eddie could do was follow alongside him. Neither one of them spoke, but the silence was comfortable, just like it had been that night on the bench.

After a few minutes of walking, Stan stopped at a particularly flat patch of land. For the first time all night, he let go of Eddie's hand and bent down to pick up twigs and rocks and toss them off to the side. Eddie caught on and began to help, earning him a grateful smile from Stan.

Stan, Eddie decided, looked incredibly pretty under starlight, accenting the careful grace that always seemed to come naturally to him. Richie looked pretty in the starlight, too, less graceful and more ragged but still beautiful.

He strode up to the two of them, a box in his hands. He set it down on the ground beside their cleared spot of land and began to pull things out. First was a blanket, which he shook out and laid on the ground. When he reached back into the box, Stan knelt down and began to straighten out the blanket. Richie paused.

“What the fuck, Stanley? It’s gonna get crooked when we sit on it.”

“It doesn’t have to be crooked _before_ we sit on it,” Stan retorted. “I couldn’t live with myself if I knew I was sitting on a _crooked_ blanket. I need it to be straight.”

“It doesn’t matter, Stan. None of us are fucking _straight_. Our blanket shouldn’t be, either.”

Eddie laughed once. And then he was just laughing, almost hysterically. He tried to cover his mouth, but that only made him laugh harder. Stan and Richie shared a look before Stan followed him into high peals of laughter. Richie shook his head at the two of them, snickering himself, and continued to pull things out of the box.

Water bottles. Chips. Cookies. Some leftover pizza. A half-empty bottle of wine.  Binoculars, which looked pristine enough to be Stan’s bird-watching pair. Stan watched all of this with settling amusement.

“How long are expecting us to be out here? Eddie probably thinks we’ve kidnapped him or something.”

“But we have,” Richie said obviously and then through his arm around Eddie’s shoulder to tug him close. He pinched his cheek happily, laughing when Eddie tried his best to shove him away. “You’re ours now, Eds! We’ll never let you go!”

Eddie blushed. “You know I hate it when you do that--and stop calling me Eds, you asshole!”

Stan finished fixing the blanket while Richie was distracted with Eddie. “Would you two sit down already? You’ll scare away the birds.”

“Well, Stan the Man, we’re not bird-watching, are we? So what the fuck does it matter if we scare away the birds?” Richie settled down on the blanket beside Stan, pausing to kiss his cheek before he stretched out completely.

Stan wiped the kiss away indignantly. “There could be owls.”

“How the fuck are you gonna see an owl?”

“I could _hear_  it!”

Eddie sat down on the far edge of the blanket, listening to the sound of their bickering. He still wasn’t entirely sure why they were there, why they’d brought _him_ along, but he thought he was mostly content. Almost immediately, Stan and Richie both looked at him.

“Why are you sitting so far away?” Stan asked, sounding anxious again. He swallowed and shot Richie a panicked look.

“Yeah, come on, Eds! We don’t bite. Unless you’re into that?” Richie punctuated the offer with a wink, and Eddie felt his cheeks beginning to burn.

“Beep beep, Richie,” he mumbled and looked away. “What are we even doing out here? You guys won’t tell me anything, and it’s kinda pissing me off.”

“Meteor shower,” Stan said quietly. Then, clearing his throat, he began again. “There’s a meteor shower happening tonight.”

“Meteor shower?” Eddie glanced back up at them. Richie didn’t look the least bit affected, but Stan was pale. Richie squeezed his shoulder supportively, and Stan gave him a grateful smile. “That’s not all, is it? Why did you need me to come out here with you?”

“We should just tell him,” said Stan, and Eddie was sure he heard his voice break. Which meant this was something bad. Something horrible. Maybe they knew that Eddie was in love with them, and they wanted to tell him to stop being so clingy because there wasn’t any room for him with them? But hadn’t they dragged him out of his window? Hadn’t Stan been the one holding his hand? Hadn’t Richie been the one pinching his cheeks?

It didn’t make sense! None of it made any fucking sense! It hadn’t made sense since they started dating, but now things were getting _worse_!

“Jeez, Eds, calm down!” Richie was kneeling in front of him, hands on his shoulders. Eddie tried to push him away, but Richie persisted. “Come on, Eddie Spaghetti, breathe!”

“Tell me? Tell me what? What do you need to tell me?” Eddie gasped, looking back and forth between the two of them rapidly. Tears began to sting in his eyes, air began to catch in his throat, and he began to sputter through sentence fragments. “I’m sorry! I know I-I shouldn’t, and I didn’t mean to, and I’m _sorry_!”

“Eds, shit, you’re not making any sense!” Richie looked at Stan and was met with Stan’s fearful gaze. Eddie couldn’t see that. Could’t see how worried he was making his _friends_.

Friends. That was all they were, and they’d found out he was in love with them, and he’d _ruined it_. He’d ruined their friendship! Now they wouldn’t want to be around him because he didn’t belong with them, he’d never belonged, and he was stupid, _stupid_ , for thinking he ever could.

But then Richie was kissing him, and every thought exploded from his mind. Richie was… kissing him? Holding his face and kissing him? Right in front of _Stan_?

Eddie shoved him away, and Richie listened. He leaned back while Eddie yanked out his aspirator and took a couple loud, frantic puffs.

“Told you he was gonna freak out,” Richie said to Stan, but that just pissed Eddie off more. He smacked Richie on the chest and would have slapped him if Richie hadn’t caught his wrist. “Eds, what the fuck! That’s no way to treat the guy who just gave you the best kiss of your life!”

“I can’t fucking believe you! What the fuck did you kiss me for? Right in front of Stan, you asshole!”

Richie stared blankly for a moment before bursting out in laughter. Eddie tried to pull his hand away, desperate to hit him, when Stan’s quiet voice stopped him.

“I told him to.”

“You… you what?” Eddie turned to look at him, confused, and was even more confused to find Stan with tears drying on his face. Stan bit his lip and pulled his knees up to his chest.

“I know you’re in love with him, Eddie. We’ve all known for… _years_  that you’re in love with him.” Stan took a deep breath and gazed back up at Eddie. “Richie’s in love with you, too.”

“Wh… what?” Eddie now looked up at Richie, who seemed suddenly afraid. “What? But--no, you’re not. You’re dating Stan.”

“I’m in love with Stan, too. I’m in love with both of you,” Richie confessed shakily, as if suddenly aware of how horribly this could all go wrong. “Stan’s just the one I kissed first. I figured I could only have one of you, but I didn’t consider how much I’d hurt the other one. I’m sorry for putting you through all this bullshit, Eds.”

Eddie shook his head; he could feel a headache coming on. “I’m… I’m still confused! Why bring me out here for this?”

“This little date was Stanley’s idea,” Richie explained, nodding to the curly-haired boy in question. “See, Eds mah boy, I’m not the only fair maiden you’ve won over. Stan over here just doesn’t think you could ever love him back.”

“Richie, you bastard!” Stan hissed, mortified, and glared down at his lap. He pulled his knees up tighter, as if trying to make himself as small as possible. No wonder he’d been so high strung all night; he’d been _afraid_. Afraid of the all same things Eddie had been afraid of.

And Eddie just… stared. First at Stan and then back at Richie, who gave him a reassuring nod. All this time, Eddie had thought….

No. He wasn’t going to think any of that any more. Not when he had Richie smiling at him like that and Stan waiting for his answer. He leaned up to kiss Richie quickly, laughing quietly at the stupid grin of glee on Richie’s face, and then crawled over to Stan. Eddie unwrapped Stan’s arms and unfolded Stan’s legs so he could sit in his lap. Eddie fit _nicely_ in his lap, like he belonged there.

He _did_.

Stan looked up at him with terrified brown eyes, but there was something else there, too. Hope. Hope and….

Eddie kissed him, felt all the tension leave his body in a quick breath of relief. Stan’s arms were around him then, and he was smiling. All three of them were smiling, stupidly, adoringly, and Eddie had to pull away because he realized that he hadn’t said anything yet.

“I _do_  love you,” Eddie told Stan and watched the blinding smile break out on his face. Eddie looked over at Richie then, who looked ridiculously happy. “I love both of you. I just didn’t think… I didn’t think you had _room_ for me.”

Richie got up so he could flop down beside the two of them, kissing the top of Stan’s head and then Eddie’s cheek. “Well, Eddie Spaghetti, you’re in luck! Stanny here and I have this Eddie-sized hole in our relationship we’ve been trying to fill.”

“What do you say, Eddie Kaspbrak?” Stan asked, leaning closer to Richie and taking Eddie with him. “Will you be our boyfriend?”

Eddie pretended to think about it. “Are the nickname’s going to get worse?”

“Count on it, babycakes!” Richie beamed.

“That’s what I thought. Can’t I just date Stan?”

“Eds! How could you?”

Stan sighed, suddenly put out. “Unfortunately, we’re a package deal. I’ve tried getting him to go away, but he won’t listen. You’ll have to date him, too.”

“Not you too, Staniel!”

“I guess I can live with that,” Eddie decided with a decisive nod.

“You guess? That’s it. You two _are_ walking back to Derry. I’ll go see if Big Bill and Mikey will treat me better.” Richie punctuated his empty threat by throwing himself dramatically onto the blanket, turned away from them and demanding attention.

Eddie turned around until his back was to Stan’s chest, and Stan could easily lean around and press soft kisses to his cheek. Reaching out, Eddie shook Richie’s shoulder. Richie, pouting, looked over at him, and Eddie gave an inviting pat to his lap.

“Hell yes!” Richie cheered, wriggling until his head was laying in Eddie’s lap and his long arms were around Stan. One of Stan’s hands drifted down to run through Richie’s hair, and Eddie couldn’t help but think how _easy_ this was. How they all _fit_ , like this was how they were supposed to be all along.

Richie wrapped around both of them while Eddie sat in Stan’s lap as Stan peered up at the stars through his binoculars. Eddie leaned his head back against Stan’s shoulder and shut his eyes. He didn’t need to look up at the stars tonight. He wouldn’t even know what to wish for now.

“This is the life. Just don’t pop a boner, Eds. You’ll knock my eye out.”

“Oh my _God_ , Richie.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me @ deadreddie.tumblr.com


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